Tuckamore Chamber Music festival

After a long gap in posting, I'm going to try my hand at something different: music reviews. I have no formal training in music, but I do know what I like, and what I don't want to see or hear repeated. For my first attempt, here are my observations of Friday night's offering at the D.F. Cook Recital Hall: "In My Love and In My Song".

While the title made obvious reference to the two song cycles "An Chloé" (Mozart) and "Sechs Gesängen"(Schumann), the other pieces seemed not to fit: "Valse" by Rachmaninoff, Hungarian Dance No. 15 by Brahms, and Beethoven's String Quartet No.7. This last, at a stretch, might have found justification in its dedication "To my brother", an expression of filial love, but a change in programming saw it replaced by the same composer's Op 74 "The Harp".

I am not familiar with this work (it was a first hearing for me), but for a quartet of players, who had not had much time to gel (this is the first week of the festival) their ensemble playing was remarkable. Given the foreshortened preparation time, the high level of co-ordination in the rapid scalar passages, and the syncopated rhythm sections in the final movement was breathtaking. Sensitivity in the pianissimo sections was to the fore, and the changes in prominence for each of the voices were seamless as each instrument sang clearly above the understructure provided by the other three. The exuberant finale brought out the obvious enjoyment the four individuals have in making music together, enjoyment conveyed readily to an appreciative audience.

Sophie Leblanc's performance of selections from "An Chloé" was preceded by a welcome introduction to the texts, since no translation had been provided to the audience. Her playful, even flirtatious depiction of the textual context of the songs prepared the audience well for her flawless singing: impeccable German diction, musicality, and an appreciation for the dramatic possibilities of the varying fortunes of the characters in the songs. Each of the four chosen presented love in a different light: "Dans un bois solitaire" shows the would-be lover alone; in "Abendempfindung" the lover discovers the gloomy mood of the dusk matches his mood; "Wie unglücklich bin ich nicht", with the double negative pointing to an uncertain positive, has the lover finding happiness, but not sure of its permanence; and "Der Zauberer" finds the lover robbed of his heart by the beauty of the beloved. Mozart found inspiration in simple, folksy tunes that he endowed with matching simplicity and wit.

Schumann in like manner chose to stay in the folk tradition of the Gesängen, rather than the more elevated art-song form of the Lieder. Again, Ms Leblanc provided a brief synopsis of each of the songs. The first five depict the unfortunate ones in love: "Herzeleid" (Heartbreak), "Die Fensterscheibe" (The Window-cleaner), "Der Gärtner" (The Gardener), "Die Spinnerin" (The Spinner), and "Im Wald" (In the Forest). In the first and fifth, the protagonist is not specified, but the emotion suffered could be shared by all, the heartbreak of a lost love in the first, the loneliness of the not-yet-loved in the fifth as the protagonist observes pairing up in nature -- two butterflies, two birds, and two deer -- and wonders implicitly when he or she may find love. The sixth song "Abendlied" (Evening Song) contrasts the first five by offering a more positive outlook on love, the title indicating a more noble approach, a Lied, and the choice of major key a more joyful outcome.

Rather than choosing the traditional accompaniment of piano, Ms Leblanc went for the twentieth century arrangement by the German composer Aribert Riemann for string quartet. Susan Waterbury played first violin, Nancy Dahn second (reversing the pairing in the Beethoven), Dov Scheindlin viola, and Vernon Regehr 'cello. The combination worked very well and I will seek out a recording of this version.

The only question mark I had for the evening concerned Ms Leblanc's constant reference to the score. Since the two song cycles are not arduous examples in the soprano's repertoire, why were they not memorized?

Finally, a word on the two pieces for piano-four hands. Rachmaninoff's "Valse", while posing some challenges for the upper hand, is not technically difficult. The composer's somewhat sardonic treatment of the waltz genre -- you can't dance to the music, and the lumbering, fortissimo section may have been an allusion to the brutal aftermath of the Bolshevik Revolution -- turns the piece into a salon novelty rather than a serious concert offering. Brahm's Hungarian Dance no.15 similarly works best in a salon setting, though concert versions have become popular. Is it possible, as the late John Herriott was fond of pointing out, that such compositions for four hands, often played by tutor (male) and student (female), offered an opportunity for close physical contact, in public, under the guise of music-making? No such possible interpretation could be made for Friday evening's performance as Timothy Steeves and Robert Kortgaard gave us only fun-filled panache.